(Mr. Burns and Smithers watch security camera footage of Homer inviting the guys over for the big fight.)
Smithers: Um, he's Homer Simpson, sir. One of your drones from Sector 7-G.
Mr. Burns: Excellent. I'm so keen on seeing Watson vs. Tatum II, I'd even go to an employee's house. Oh, I can picture it now. The screen door rusting off it's filthy hinges, mangy dogs staggering about, looking vainly for a place to die.
Smithers: Permission to speak frankly, sir?
Mr. Burns: Permission granted.
Smithers: Well, you are quite wealthy--
Mr. Burns: Thank you, Smithers. Your candor is most refreshing.
Smithers: No, no, I mean, why don't you pay for the fight yourself?
Mr. Burns: Ah, Smithers, the big title fight is one of those rare occasions that I savor the sights, the sounds and (sniffs) ah, yes, the smells of men.
Smithers: You haven't lost the common touch, sir.